


It's Groundhog Day... Again

by Shorina



Category: Groundhog Day (1993)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorina/pseuds/Shorina
Summary: It's Groundhog Day... again, so of course we find Phil, Rita and Larry in the place-to-be on February 2nd - Punxsutawney!
Relationships: Phil Connors/Rita Hanson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	It's Groundhog Day... Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muffin_song](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muffin_song/gifts).

„Well, it's Groundhog Day... again.“ 

Not the most elegant opening Phil has ever come up with. But concentration is no easy feat with so many cameras and microphones pointed at his face. 

No, scratch that, they don't even matter. It's the expectant look in Rita's eyes that makes it so difficult for him to focus. Admittedly, he's brought that look onto her face himself. Part of him wishes he had never promised her that today will be a very special day, but that's a very small part. Mostly he shares her excitement, though for him there's a good dose of nervousness mixed in with it; for several reasons he doesn't have time to think about now. Business first.

He clears his throat. “As has become tradition, people from all over have traveled to Punxsutawney on this day to celebrate, be it a long winter or the early coming of spring. And looking around today, the joy these people spread, the love radiating from them, surely that alone must be enough to keep not only this beautiful town warm throughout the coldest of winters, but to take the warmth back to their cities, towns and villages, to spread it to their friends, families and loved ones.”

Rita motions towards his right and Phil half turns to look over his shoulder.

“But for now, let's listen to my favorite namesake's prediction, Punxsutawney Phil.”

He sees Larry, of course Larry, Phil refused to bring anyone else, slowly pan up to Gobbler's Knob.

As soon as the other camera-crews have followed his example, Rita sidles up to Phil. “Though I've seen this last year, it's still exciting.”

He smiles at her. “It is, no matter how many times you've seen it. Especially when you don't know the outcome.”

The remark earns him a curious look from Rita, but as they're retrieving Phil the groundhog at this moment, she lets it pass and watches the smaller, furrier Phil 'converse' with the officials. They listen to the following announcement together, arm in arm while a few snow flakes start falling.

Rita reluctantly pulls away when it becomes clear Larry will focus back on 'her' Phil again any moment and Phil readies his microphone again.

“You heard it, Phil, the 'Seer of Seers', has seen snow,” Phil lifts his hand, trying to catch a few flakes on the palm of his black-gloved-hand and show them to the camera. “And rightly so he did. But he saw no shadow, thus predicting an early spring.” He pauses for a second, forcing his mind to focus on the quotes he tried to put to memory last night.

_"And Spring arose on the garden fair,_   
_Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;_   
_And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast_   
_rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.”_

Rita smiles that cute smile of hers and nods her approval.

“And so, with Shelley's words, on what could possibly be one of the last days of winter, I take my leave from your screens for today. From Punxsutawney, I'm Phil Connors."

Cheers arise around him and are taken up all over, even from those who cannot possibly have heard his words. Surely it's just the joy at the prospect of spring.

“Good job, Phil,” Larry puts his camera down, smiling, and reaches out to shake Phil's hand.

“You too, Larry, you too.” He turns to look at Rita. “So, what's the producer's verdict?” 

He can see how hard she tries to look professional and stern and come up with something she can berate him for. It's a little game they've developed, but, if he's honest, it's also helping him not to revert to old, bad habits.

“You could have made a better job of the snow presentation. Next time give Larry a chance to zoom in on your hand before rambling on.”

“Rambling?! Me?!” He playfully acts hurt, putting his hand over his heart as if shocked, but he also realizes there's truth in her words. “But you might be onto something with the timing. What do you think, Lar...”

He doesn't get to finish his question before someone pats him on the shoulder and barely waits for him to turn around before addressing him. “Great job, Phil. You know, that offer from my station still stands.”

“Gee, thank you, Frank, but as I've told you before I'm not leaving Channel 9.”

“Our loss, I guess.” Adding just loud enough for Phil to hear he continues, “though with a producer as hot as her I can't blame you.” Phil receives a conspiratorial nudge from Frank's elbow. “Well, if you do change your mind, you've got my number.” And with that, Frank moves off and Phil sighs with relief.

“I can't believe he still hasn't given up. How many times has he tried to get you to make the switch now?”

“I didn't count,” Phil truthfully replies. 

Frank has not been the only one. After his 'sudden' rise to fame one year ago, other stations have been calling quite a lot, trying to get him to sign with them. And, going by the calendar, just that one year and one day ago, he'd have accepted the best-paying offer and been on his way, never looking back. But so much has happened on Groundhog Day last year. It changed him, Rita changed him, he changed for her, or better, he changed because of her. What started here in Punxsutawney changed his whole life far beyond the town's borders. He may not live here as he had envisioned last year, but he has Rita at his side, and that made him realize it doesn't matter where he spends his life, but how he lives it and who he shares it with.

Rita looks at him expectantly. “So, where to now?”

“How about coffee for a start? You too, Larry.”

“Sounds great,” Larry enthuses while Rita nods. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

“Great, let's quickly pack up and load the van so we have the rest of the day off.” Phil reaches for the equipment bag and starts packing away their gear.

One of the benefits of his rise to fame is that the station was happy to pay for two nights in Punxsutawney, instead of expecting them to drive back immediately. Well, of course they're only paying for two rooms this year, so it's probably not too many extra expenses.

* ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ *

On the way to the Tip Top Cafe, they are stopped. “Oh, Mr. Connors!” A woman Phil actually doesn't know, maybe she's no local, speed-walks up to them, dragging someone behind her. Oliver, Phil realizes, the kid who fell from the tree last Groundhog Day.

“Mr. Connors,” the woman says again, as she reaches them, sounding relieved, “it is you. I'm so glad we finally get to meet! Oliver told me what happened to him, though only reluctantly when I asked him about the rip in his jacket. I can't thank you enough for saving him!”

“I just happened to be there at the right time,” Phil replies while she reaches for his hand and shakes it vigorously.

“I thank God every day that he led you down our street at exactly the right time.”

Phil just smiles, a little embarrassed that something that happened a year ago is being dragged up again now. “I'm just glad Oliver wasn't hurt.”

Oliver hasn't said a single word and still aims for a cool appearance.

His mother turns to him, a stern look on her face. “Oliver, don't you have anything to say to Mr. Connors?”

Oliver pouts for a moment, forgetting all about being cool, but then mutters, “thank you.”

“I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you did...”

Rita, who has been following the exchange with a mix of surprise and bewilderment, takes that as her cue to 'save' Phil. “Oh my, look at the time, we really need to press on if we want to make it on time.” She smiles at Oliver's mother. “I'm sorry, I have to whisk him away now.”

While Larry looks at his watch and frowns in confusion, Phil takes up Rita's cue. “She's the producer, if she says I need to go, I need to go. Take care of yourself, Oliver. Good bye.”

“Oh, of course, you're here as a professional. Just – thank you again.”

Rita touches Phil's elbow as a signal to move and he obediently starts walking. 

When they're half a block away, Larry speaks up. “What are we late for? I thought we don't have anything to do until the party tonight?”

Rita smiles. “Exactly.”

* ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ *

At the Tip Top Cafe, they nearly collide with Doris as they enter, and it's only Phil's quick reaction that saves a cup from shattering as it slides off her tray.

“Sorry, Doris, we didn't see you there.” Phil uses her name without giving it any thought, she feels like a good acquaintance to him.

“Story of my life,” Doris sighs, then recognizes Phil. “Oh, it's you, Mr. Connors! We watched you on TV, such a lovely speech. Bill was very touched by the poem you quoted.”

“Thank you, I'm glad I found the right words.” He gently places the cup back on Doris' tray and looks around. “Can we have three coffees, please? I think we'll take that table.”

“Sure thing, darling.”

Rita can't help but be amazed. “Your fame in this town is astonishing, Phil.” 

They sit at a table as far from the one Phil knows only too well, as possible.

“People see me on television, there's not much I can do about that.”

“That lady back outside didn't talk to you about your performance on TV, though,” Larry interjects.

“Oh her, she's making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“What exactly happened? She didn't say,” Rita questions.

“It was nothing, really. Last year when we were in town Oliver had a small accident while climbing and I happened to be there to help him.”

Rita looks at him, trying to figure out whether Phil is downplaying the whole thing or the woman was indeed making the incident seem larger than it had been. “Care to elaborate?”

Phil is saved from answering by Bill's arrival with their coffees. “Here are your coffees, oh, and the poem you quoted touched me deeply, Mr. Connors. Could you tell me what exactly it was so I can look it up? I'd love to surprise Jake with it, he loves poetry.”

“Jake? Bill, have you found yourself a partner? That's wonderful!” Phil seems truly pleased by the idea.

Bill smiles broadly. “Yes, it's been three months now and Jake's wonderful.”

“I'm happy for you, really, I am. Rita, do you happen to have pen and paper?”

“I do!” Bill pulls both items out of an apron-pocket and hands them to Phil, who accepts them and starts writing.

“Here you go, that's the full quote I used, and the author's name, in case you want to look up more of his work.”

“Wow, thank you so much Mr. Connors, Jake is going to love this!”

Rita simply shakes her head at the exchange in amazement while Larry is distracted by trying to catch the eye of a woman sitting at a table across the room.

“Say, Bill, any chance of something to eat?”

Once they have ordered, Rita leans over to Phil. “I know I am repeating myself, but I still can't believe how popular you are in this town. Especially considering you only come here once a year.”

“I put it down to the type of people you find in small towns like these. You know, where everyone knows everyone else...”

Oh how he wishes that he could explain to her what happened in this town last Groundhog Day, but he doesn't really understand it himself, and knows how unbelievable the story is. So, as much as he hates not telling her the truth and nothing but the truth, this is one little white lie he's been living with for a year now and probably must live with for eternity. He just hopes it won't repeat – although eternity at Rita's side does seem like a much better prospect than eternity without being able to reach her.

* ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ *

“Let's go for a walk, I heard there are ice-sculptures again. I'd love to see them,” Rita suggests.

Phil immediately agrees, he can sense too many eyes on him here in the cafe. It feels as if everyone is talking about him. “Catching some fresh air sounds good to me. Larry?”

Larry shakes his head. He has managed to make eye-contact with the woman across the room and she even smiled at him. “I think I'll stay on for another coffee.”

“Enjoy it, Larry. We'll meet you at the party tonight, I guess?”

“Yeah, sure. I'll be there.”

Phil helps Rita into her coat, then reaches for his own. 

“Good luck,” Rita whispers to Larry while she buttons up her coat. Larry's attempts at flirting didn't go unnoticed and she really means the words.

“Ready?” Phil gestures for the door.

“Sure. See you later, Larry!” 

Phil opens the door for Rita and, outside, offers her his arm. 

She takes it and snuggles against his side in the chilly air, smiling. “Do you think he's going to get lucky today?”

“You never know. Stranger things have happened in Punxsutawney.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, you know, one year, not all that long ago, a TV weatherman came to Punxsutawney... yadda, yadda, yadda. You know the story.”

“No, please do tell. That sounds like just the kind of story I'd love to hear.” They exchange more banter while they walk to the ice-sculptures.

“Mr. Connors? Oh, excuse me, Mr. Connors?”

Phil offers Rita an apologetic look before he turns to the see who it is. It's a man he's curiously unfamiliar with. Probably in his mid thirties, tall, lean...

“You lost your glove, Mr. Connors, it slipped from your pocket.” The newcomer holds out one of Phil's leather gloves.

“Oh, thank you!” Phil gratefully accepts the offered glove.

“My pleasure.”

“How do you know his name?” Rita asks, truly curious.

“Doesn't everyone who comes to Punxsutawney on this day?” The man seems honestly surprised by the question. “The wife's a big fan. Say, Mr Connors, could I trouble you for an autograph for her?”

Phil pats his pockets. “I don't have any...”

“Oh, you could sign on our street-map.” The man reaches into his own pocket and produces a folded map. “Maybe right there at Gobbler's Knob?”

“If you have a pen, I'd be happy to.”

“I have one.” Rita reaches for her purse and quickly finds the requested item.

Phil takes both Rita's pen and the man's map, which isn't very sturdy and bends away under the pen.

The man turns around and bends over a little, offering his back to Phil. “Can you make it out to Marge?”

“Of course.” Phil writes the autograph and hands the map back. 

The man looks at it and beams. “Wonderful, thank you so much, Mr. Connors, this'll make her day.”

“My pleasure. The least I could do.” He hands the pen back to Rita. “Now, if you'll excuse us...”

“Oh, of course. Thank you again!” The man reaches to shake Phil's hand, which Phil accepts, although mostly because everything else would be rude. Then, with a small wave the stranger turns away, mumbling, “she'll never believe I spoke to Phil Connors.”

“Should I put that pen away or do you want to write some more autographs?” Rita teases.

“Put it away, I'd much rather spend some time alone with you.”

“That would be nice, but it does seem a little difficult in this town. I didn't know you were so popular here!”

“So you keep saying. But neither did I.” Phil had expected most people to have forgotten about him, but it seems that assumption was wrong. He's been trying to remember how many people he helped on the final run of last Groundhog Day. It's nowhere near as many as seem to recognize him. Of course his face is on TV regularly, but in Pittsburgh, not here. Though the station is probably available here, too. But still, he doesn't get this much attention elsewhere.

They manage to stand and watch the ice-sculptors for a while without interruption, but that doesn't mean people don't point at them and whisper to each other.

Suddenly there's a shout of “it's Phil” from somewhere to their left and Phil steels himself for another interruption.

“Oh yes, look!” Rita points at the latest sculpture that is slowly being carved from an ice-block. She turns to Phil and mimics the groundhog, making Phil laugh.

“One day Larry will need to catch you on camera doing that, it's too cute.”

Rita laughs. “As long as we get the film instead of the station.”

“We're talking about Larry, I could certainly bribe him into it.”

“Maybe we'd better not,” Rita says, still chuckling.

“Phil Connors! Could I ask you for a statement for our readers, Mr. Connors?” A woman with a press-id speed-walks up to them and holds out her hand. “Jenny Parker, I'm with the Punxsutawney Times.”

Phil looks at her in surprise and shakes the offered hand more out of reflex than conscious thought. “I wasn't aware Punxsutawney has it's own newspaper.”

“Probably because it's a weekly and you haven't been in town on a Tuesday when we publish. Could I still trouble you for a little of your time?”

Phil looks at Rita who smiles, but Phil can tell these constant interruptions are starting to annoy her as much as him.

“If you can keep it brief, I don't have much time, I'm afraid.”

“Of course.” Jenny Parker reaches for the camera slung over her shoulder. “Could we start with a quick photograph? Maybe of you and the ice-groundhog behind you?”

The sculpture is quickly taking on shape and is easily recognizable as Phil's namesake by now.

Phil reaches for Rita to pull her close, but she shakes her head. “They want you, not me.” She gently but firmly pushes his hand away. He'll have to make it up to her, Phil decides. If only he knew how to...

* ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ *

It starts snowing more heavily around noon and after a brief and thankfully quiet lunch they discuss what to do next while holding hands across their table.

“We could go to our room,” Phil suggests, but Rita shakes her head and takes on an expression as if that was the most boring idea ever. “No? Well, how about... a movie? I think they show classics in the afternoon at the theater. I'm not sure what's on, but we could check.”

“You know, that sounds nice. And cozy.” Rita hums a few tunes that Phil recognizes as 'kissing in the back row of the movies'. 

He smiles broadly. “Hold on to that thought.”

“Oh, I will,” Rita assures him.

The classic is the old Hitchcock movie The Man Who Knew Too Much. While they both know it, it's a classic for a reason. They're both captivated and kissing quickly gets pushed to the back of their minds. Rita leans over the arm-rest to snuggle up to Phil, though, and he squeezes her hand affectionately.

“That was nice, we should go to the movies more often,” Rita sighs happily as they leave the theater when the movie is over.

“I was bored of going to the movies for a while, but this was _very_ pleasant. So absolutely, let's do it again.” He pretends to turn around and head straight back into the theater, making Rita laugh.

“Too soon?” He quips and she nods. “It'll be getting dark soon, let's head back to the b&b.”

Phil knows the exact time of sunset and it's not all that soon, but going to the b&b sounds good to him. Somewhere private where they can be alone, it's exactly what he's been waiting for.

On the way they get stopped a few times by people wanting to shake his hand and one time Rita even has to take a photo of Phil with a family of four, but eventually they reach the b&b and head up to their room.

“Shall I put the fake-fire on?”

“That sounds lovely, please do.”

Rita removes her shoes and curls up on the sofa while Phil, knowing by heart where the controls are hidden, turns on the fire-effect.

“This gives off about as much heat as you can expect from the shower down the hall.” Phil comes to join her on the sofa. “But the atmosphere is much nicer.”

“It is indeed. And if that cold shower is such a trauma for you, why did you insist we book a room here? There are hot showers at the hotel.”

“I've got you to cuddle with for warmth, who needs hot showers? And you don't get such a lovely fake-fire at the hotel.”

Rita playfully slaps his arm, then scoots closer and Phil puts his arm around her.

“A year ago I never would have dreamed of this.” Rita sighs contentedly.

“Of a fake-fire?”

“Of you and I sitting here together, as a couple.”

“I did dream of it.”

She tilts her head back to look at him. “You really fell in love with me at first sight?”

He nods. “Yes. That's one thing I never would have dreamed of, but it happened. To me!”

“I'm glad it has.” She snuggles up against his shoulder again.

“Me, too.” Gently, he places a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. “Me, too.”

They sit there quietly for a few minutes, simply enjoying each others company and the flicker of the fake-fire. Phil's free hand reaches for his pocket, then pulls away again.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Rita says, startling Phil a little.

He clears his throat. “I'm thinking about you. And me. Us.”

“And what are you thinking about us?”

Phil's hand wanders to his pocket again, this time reaching into it. His fingers brush against the box he's carried around in there since they left Pittsburgh.

“Phil?”

He gently removes his arm from around Rita's shoulders. It has to be now or he'll chicken out.

“I'm thinking I want to spend my life with you. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see when I fall asleep. I want to laugh and joke with you. I want to make you happy. I want us to be happy together. I want to start a family with you and take our kids to the cabin at the lake that's so dear to you. I want to read you poetry and kiss you when you make your groundhog face.”

He finally pulls the little box out of his pocket and flips it open. “Rita, I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?” He looks at her with that puppy eyed look of his.

Rita is speechless for a moment, looking from Phil to the ring in the box and back at Phil.

“Phil, this is so...” She swallows, then reaches to touch the ring, just to touch it. “It's so beautiful.”

“Nowhere near as beautiful as you are, but it was the nicest one I could find.” Phil still looks at her as Rita raises her eyes to meet his.

Then suddenly, as if breaking a spell she was under, she reaches for his face with both hands and kisses him deeply. “Yes, Phil, I want to marry you,” she says.

Phil's puppy eyed face morphs into a big grin. “You do?”

“Of course I do!”

They embrace a little awkwardly, due to their positions on the couch and Phil still holding the box, but it doesn't matter. Then Phil pulls away and takes the ring from the box. He reaches for Rita's hand and slides it onto her finger. “I can't believe you said yes.”

She laughs. “Why not?”

“Because you're too good for me.”

“You're selling yourself short. Just think how many people you made happy today!”

“And I nearly made you unhappy while doing it.”

Rita shakes her head. “No, not unhappy. It was getting a little much, a little annoying, but I could never be unhappy about you being a good person. It's one of the things I love about you.”

“One of them, eh? And what else do you love about me?”

She thinks for a moment. “I love everything about you. Because everything about you makes you... you! I wouldn't want to change a single thing.”

'But you did change me so much and you'll never know,' Phil thinks. Out loud he says, “I wouldn't dream of changing you, either. You're perfect.”

“No, I'm not. Nobody is perfect.”

“As close to perfection as is possible, then?”

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good, so can I.” He leans over to steal another kiss or two from her. “And I want to do just that for the rest of my life.”

“I think I can live with that, too,” Rita mumbles between kisses.

* ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ * ♥ *

At the party they meet Larry again, who has actually managed to get a date. They leave him and the woman, whom Larry introduces as Carly, alone and Phil pulls Rita onto the dance floor. “Want to practice the waltz for our wedding?”

“I might, if they weren't playing a rumba.”

“My bad,” Phil smiles at her as she steps up to him and places her right hand in his.

They dance for a few songs, then go to fetch some drinks.

“To world peace,” Phil suggests as a toast.

“And to our engagement,” Rita adds, clinking her glass against his.

_“And now I would like to ask a very special guest to come up on stage and play a few songs with us...”_ the band leader announces. _“Phil Connors, we know you can rock that piano, so come up here and work some magic!”_

Phil can't believe his ears and makes dismissive gestures, trying to get out of it, but the more he protests, the more people seem to start shouting for him until seemingly the whole room has joined in. “Phil! Phil! Phil!...”

He looks at Rita and she laughs, nodding towards the stage. “Go, have some fun, you know you want to.”

“I want to be with you,” Phil protests, but she takes his glass out of his hands and, with a sigh, Phil puts his hands up placatingly. “Okay, okay.“ He makes his way through the partygoers, who willingly step aside to let him pass. Some even pat his shoulder or back as he passes. He looks back to Rita once more before he climbs onto the stage. But instead of heading for the e-piano, Phil walks up to the microphone.

“I should warn you, I'm a little rusty when it comes to playing. But I'll give it a shot.” A cheer echoes through the room. “Today is a very special day, though, so I won't stay long. You see, I got engaged today. This wonderful, wonderful woman standing there at the back of the room, the one holding two glasses, and I'd like mine back in a moment, thank you,” he smiles lovingly at Rita, “has agreed to marry me only two hours ago. I'm sure you all will understand that I long to spend the evening with her.”

Oohs and aahs can be heard as people crane their necks to see who the lucky lady is that won Phil Connors' heart. Rita blushes a little at the sudden attention.

Meanwhile Phil whispers to the band leader, who nods and passes word on to his fellow musicians.

“This one is for you, Rita,” Phil announces, drawing the crowd's attention back to the stage. “I love you.”

He walks to the e-piano and nods to the band. The drummer counts out the beat and they start playing “Weatherman”.


End file.
